大象传媒

Born in 1930 in Bromley-By-Bow right next to East India Docks and as proved was a top priority for German bombers and did it take a beating.
In September 1939 the Australians playing cricket and in papers it said "Australia Declared" I thought this was all over and decided I would like a train ride to the country like all other London children with their name tags on lapels and little square boxes dangling from their shoulders.Little did I know what fate had in store for me and countless other evacuees.
I arrived in Broad Town in Wilts about nine p.m. and children were being solected according to their usefulness to local people. My charges to be were not there, so WVS people delivered us three to my home for the next two years. And what two years it turned out to be. We all were given a cup of milk of which I thought was sour. My first ever taste of cream milk produced that day.
The two brothers Johnston from Old Ford were to look after each other, I a slight lad, possibly a weakling from family of eight and not used to fresh food were to come a cropper often due to my not being used to carrots,swede,marrow and turnips and uther vegs, being the only veg I ate was potatoes as they wwere cheap. Breakfast always porridge cooked all night and was dished up as a dollop, no sugar and no extra milk although this was a farm house with 22 cows and two horses and 500 chickens. It was my given job as a small 9 year old to clean out cowshed, chicken runs and take farm animals out to graze.Every weekend to pluck chickens and empty toilet bucket and dig it into ground.
We spent most of our time either in food shed or to bed, then priviledged to walk through the house.
We has a chamber pot but was taken away as too much use. What would you expect from three children given cup of milk before bedtime. we used to empty bladders out of window till found out then had to ask permission so as to go to the pigs sty for the purpose.
In the two years in this home two memories stuck in my mind for all time to my grave. Washing water was from a rain butt and in winter when frozen, a chopper was used to break ice and frozen flannel thawed with hot water over sink and not in the basin. This all was in food shed where other companions were rats and mice, of which was my job to set traps and bury the culprits. How I ever managed to load rat traps I'll never know.The second memory was once a week boiled egg which we had to eat slice of bread, the woman in the house never knew how we enjoyed that bread. Just one egg and one slice of bread. The farm produced about two gross of eggs each week, one for the M.O.F. AND ONE GROSS FOR Swindon butcher, in return for one hundred weight sacks of sugar and other niceties.
after several months the Johnson's father visited and took them bact to London (bombs or no) and I took stick about that.
In 2002 my grandson Harry's school had a play about evacuees and the research done was impeccable. The local families hated us scum (as reffered to) and would get us into trouble with teachers. One incident was when a coke door was broken and I witnessed local lad doing this. A local girl blamed me and I got six of the best for damaged and lying about it.
This was typical of treatment dished out to all evacuees. In this play the stastics during first month of war was given as 65% return to London. On our way to school it was common to see young mothers sitting in barn all day as they were not allowed in houses till late.
In general the local people professed to be religious and would speak bible speak, yet they had not time for us scum.

As a 73 year old living in Spain for health reasons still have vivid memories till this day and will never forget till the day I die.
There must be thousands with similar stories to just a few who were treated properly, and remember the occasional good deed by people who did not have evacuees thrust on them. There cannot be many culprits guilty of these sins of cruelty but most will be long dead. May they turn in their graves.

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